


A Shot of Maple Syrup

by soft_lester



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, interactive introverts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:49:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soft_lester/pseuds/soft_lester
Summary: Dan and Phil go to IHOP.





	A Shot of Maple Syrup

“Come on, Dan, all the IHOPs in Philadelphia are open until midnight.”

Dan didn’t bother trying to make a comeback to Phil’s insistence on going to IHOP the very first day they were in America. Dan supposed that he couldn’t blame Phil for wanting pancakes that badly, though. Their flight landed in Philadelphia after 9 that night—three hours later than it was supposed to because their flight out of London had been delayed. When they left London they were rushing to the airport in a frenzy—they didn’t want to miss another flight like they had when they flew to Los Angeles for VidCon—only to find out that their flight to Philadelphia was delayed. It was an exhausting experience, even more so than a normal trip across the Atlantic. They earned a treat after everything they had gone through, hadn’t they?

“Alright, fine, we can go to IHOP,” Dan said. “We’re going to the hotel, first, though. I dunno about you, but I’m not dragging all my luggage into some random IHOP.” They weren’t going to see their tour bus that would drive them all around America until tomorrow. For now, they were stuck waiting outside the airport until the taxi they called came to pick them up and bring them to the hotel they were staying at for the night.

Dan’s response brought a smile to Phil’s lips, so Dan added, “You better be happy. We’re doing this just for you, Lester.”

“Come on, the taxi’s here,” Phil said, lifting his head to see a car approaching them. They gathered their luggage, stuffed it into the trunk of the car, and then got in the back seats.

The ride to the hotel went by fast enough. Then they had to check into the hotel, which was a smooth process—at least, it was as smooth as it could go for the two of them. They didn’t spend much time in their hotel room; they dropped off their luggage, used the toilet, and then they were out again.

“Hold on,” Phil said once they returned to the lobby, “do we even know where the nearest IHOP is?”

Dan rolled his eyes. “No,” he answered. Of course in the midst of their planning—or, their _lack_ of planning—they had forgotten to figure out where the nearest IHOP in Philadelphia even was.

A quick check to Google Maps reassured the men that there was a restaurant within walking distance, which was convenient because it meant that they wouldn’t have to get another car just to bring them to and from the restaurant.

After a five minute walk Dan and Phil found themselves waiting for one of the people working at IHOP to seat them somewhere in the restaurant. It was late enough that there was no need for the restaurant to be heavily staffed, but there were still a decent amount of people sitting and eating. Dan and Phil both kept their heads low as they followed one of the servers, who was leading them to a table in the back corner of the restaurant, a small relief that filled them with gratitude. It wasn’t that they didn’t want people to recognize them, but they were too exhausted to give their fans the attention they deserved on that particular day.

The server—whose name was Rachel, according to her name tag—set down two menus on the table and left them to look over their options in peace.

Several minutes later, Rachel brought two plates of pancakes stacks to the table in the corner of the restaurant, where a hungry Dan and Phil accepted them with gratitude.

Phil looked up at Dan from behind the stack of pancakes with eager eyes. “Thanks,” he said in a soft voice. His vibrant blue eyes glowed, showing just how grateful he was to have this stack of pancakes in front of him.

Dan couldn’t help but shoot Phil a smile back. A loving, caring smile. It was a smile that said, “I’m happy to make you happy.”

Then both men leaned forward to try to grab at one container of syrup at the same time, their hands touching. Even just brushing their hands together for a second made Dan’s heart skip a beat. Dan wanted more than that, but he would have to wait until they were back at the hotel and alone together once again. For now, he had a stack of pancakes sitting in front of him that demanded to be drenched in maple syrup.

Phil drew back slightly, allowing Dan to take the syrup container first. He did so with hesitation, but this hesitation disappeared by the time he was pouring syrup all over his pancakes. Once he was done, he handed the bottle to Phil, who also drenched his pancakes in syrup. Phil looked like he was having way too much fun pouring syrup on the pancakes, which made Dan even happier. He was glad he agreed to coming here with Phil, just to see him happy. Once Phil set the maple syrup bottle back on the side of the table where they had found it, Dan dug into the pancakes. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until he devoured the massive stack of pancakes in a matter of minutes. Traveling was exhausting—Dan already knew that much, especially with all the traveling he and Phil had done over the last few weeks alone—but he didn’t understand how hungry it made him, too. Across the table, Phil was just as hungry, too, devouring his own stack just as quickly as Dan had.

Once he swallowed the last bite, Phil looked up at Dan and smiled, clearly content with their meal. “I’m glad we came here,” Phil said, “and I can’t wait to go to even more IHOPs throughout America, since we’re going to be here for a while.”

Dan smiled, too. “Me, too.” He couldn’t wait for all the meals in America while across from Phil. Especially the pancakes drenched in maple syrup.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! please follow me on twitter @philspuns!


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